


Behzinga Is Gone

by tbjzlvzn



Category: The Ultimate Sidemen
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28973424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tbjzlvzn/pseuds/tbjzlvzn
Summary: In which Ethan is feeling hopeless and takes his own life.
Kudos: 8





	Behzinga Is Gone

**Author's Note:**

> warning!! - alcoholism, eating disorders, self harm, drug misuse, suicide

Ethan didn’t know how long he could live on like this. Happiness was only temporary, and wasn’t even real. He felt like he had no real life purpose. I mean sure he had the whole youtube career and stuff but he really didn’t feel like it meant anything.

Everyday his body was in constant pain because of everything he did to himself.  
He would stuff atleast two packets of paracetamol down his throat most nights in hopes that it would finally take him or atleast take the pain away.

He dug deep lines into his skin all over this hips and thighs and scratch at his wrists and arms until they bled. He would sit and pinch himself for ages until little cuts would form, he really didn’t care where he did those. They were easy to pass off as little marks from something normal like a dog or just every day life.

He would drink lethal amounts of alcohol also in hopes that it would take the pain away. But instead it only built up his tolerance, causing him to drink more and  
more every time.

Sometimes he would binge eat until he threw up, which put more stress on his body and health. Which would then lead to him starving himself for prolonged periods of time. And more times than not he would just physically make himself sick by sticking a finger down his throat or just any way he could find.

He would take drugs to get high and be numb. It started with weed which he smoked sneakily out of the bathroom window. Then he started on harder drugs, and within weeks of starting to use he was taking lines of cocaine most mornings.

He would pull at his hair, which had grown long due to the lack of self care. Clumps of it would come out every time, just enough so that it didn’t leave bald patches.

He would punch a wall or door and sometimes even the floor until his knuckles were raw and bleeding. And occasionally smash his head against the wall.

He tried anything and everything that he thought might take away the pain or even just slightly distract himself from it. None of it was enough for him.

He was confused how nobody had suspected a thing. Even when they would find his stash of drugs, they’d make a joke and blamed it on Harry. When they found his blades, they brushed it off and said it was probably for shaving. When they found the empty alcohol bottles, they blamed it on JJ’s excessive partying. When they found the dents in the wall and the holes in the door they blamed it on Harry and Vikk’s anger outbursts. And when they found him bandaging up cuts or his knuckles they simply ignored it.

He wasn’t sure that they cared anymore. No matter how many times he had blatantly left things out or even told them, they still did not make a move to help him.

Although Josh, being the token father of their group had suggested maybe therapy before, it wasn’t because of all the bad signs he was showing. It was because he knew how he had grown up, which had paid a fair part in his issues now. But it wasn’t so major.

One night he sat in his bedroom and wrote letters for each of the Sidemen. And then his family. And then filmed a short video that was to be posted to the fans. He sat and cried and cried as he wrote, feeling bad that he was going to leave them with so much pain. 

But deep down he didn’t care. He didn’t care for anyone. He felt so bad, yet so happy that his pain was finally going to go. He was doing this for himself, he really didn’t care about the effects.

Then he loaded up on any tablets and pills he could find. Drank as much alcohol as possible. Smoked one last joint. Then ran a cold bath and got in, taking his last few cuts at his arms and legs. He had learnt in school many years earlier that there was a  
major blood vessel in your thigh. If you cut it, you’d bleed out within minutes.

That was his plan, plain and simple. So he did. He dug straight down through his skin and flesh, didn’t even flinch. He felt nothing. And as he had learnt all those years earlier, he bled out in his bathtub without a struggle or sound.

He wasn’t found until the morning, Tobi had gone in to go to the toilet. He froze in shock when he saw Ethan laying lifeless in the now red water. No words came from his mouth, he didn’t really know how to react. He just stood mouth agape. Until his body finally caught up with itself.

An aggressive sob dragged form his mouth, hot tears already falling from his eyes. He dropped to his knees beside the bathtub gripping the side of it. Josh, being the only one upstairs was the first to hear him and ran to the bathroom, immediately stopping in his path.

“is this some kind of sick joke”

Tobi only shook his head, unable to get out any actual words through his crying.  
Josh quickly left the room again to call an ambulance although he was sure it was too late. After calling them he went a got Tobi from the bathroom and took him downstairs to everyone else who were shocked and scared by his state.

“Ethan has...hurt himself”

They sat confused for a second before it clicked, all jumping up to go see him.

“i think it’s best you don’t, it’s not pretty just stay with Tobi and keep him calm okay”

Josh was unsure how he was staying so calm. He didn’t know how he was holding back his tears. The rest were all crying, but Vikk and Simon tried not to as they comforted Tobi. They didn’t know what to do, they just sat and cried in disbelief until the ambulance came.

Ethan was pronounced dead by the paramedics, noting that he had probably been gone for at least 10 hours. They had asked if he had shown any signs of suicidal thoughts, to which they all replied no. One of the paramedics shook his head at them, disappointed by the fact they knew nothing.

A few weeks later, they held a funeral for Ethan. They had all the Sidemen, their friends and Ethan’s family there. It was a surprisingly small ceremony. 

The boys had begun to feel guilty for letting their friend struggle all on his own.  
They all blamed themselves, and told the rest that it was instead their fault. But there was no way to determine who’s fault it was. Or even if it was at a singular persons fault.

They still hadn’t read the letters, too afraid to see what was inside them. And they knew they would break down just by reading their name on the front.

It wasn’t going to be the same without him, they didn’t know how long they’d keep going before they realise they were broken too.


End file.
